My hairdresser has quit! I assumed the many weeks of being closed was the cause of a career change but was surprised when she shared that she simply could no longer take the abuse of customers. She said it had become a daily occurrence to have folks arrive to the salon refusing to wear a mask, refusing to book appointments or refusing to follow the COVID-19 protocols of the salon. And some of those who were able to follow these simple instructions would sit in her salon chair complaining nonstop about everything.
“Each morning I dreaded coming in and by my lunch break I felt like a weight was on my shoulders.” So, she took a full time job in a completely different field and no longer deals with the public.
She is not alone. It would seem many are fed up with rude and toxic interactions. I noticed last week a new sign was taped up at the McDonald’s drive thru. It reads, “We believe in fostering gracious behavior in our restaurants and creating a pleasant environment for both our guests and staff. Please treat our staff with respect and dignity. McDonald’s reserves the right not to serve abusive customers”
A similar sign went up at a couple of grocery stores in town and the Dollar Stores.
Let’s tread lightly. It has been a long pandemic for everyone. Yelling at the drive thru waitress or the grocery store clerk is not going to solve any of your problems. I guarantee you will actually feel worse and most definitely so will everyone who heard you. So, stop it.
Do yourself a favor and everyone around you, be kind if for no other reason than the kindness will come back to you! How you treat others is how life will treat you. As Mother Teresa said, “Kind words can be short and easy to speak, but their echoes are truly endless.”
Choose kindness,
Rev. Heather McCarrel
Minister at Kemble-Sarawak, Zion-Keppel Pastoral Charge
Photo by Matt Collamer,used with permission/ Unsplash
My daughter got married on Saturday! Despite the pandemic, severe thunderstorm warnings and the touch down of a tornado, it was a day of bewildering beauty.
It was exactly 9 years ago Saturday, June 26th, that my daughter and her new husband had their first date. Over a year ago, when they realized this date fell on a Saturday, they announced their intention to mark this most important anniversary with Holy Matrimony.
A wedding liturgy was created by the two of them full of prayers, blessing and gratitude to their Great Creator.
After much deliberation, the ceremony was set to occur at a covered picnic shelter perched on a pier surrounded by Georgian Bay. The morning of the big day we gathered and filled the picnic shelter with tiny white lights and loosely wrapped white netting to create a heavenly vibe. The green carpeting invited the green glow from outside in, while blue tables covered with white lace, topped with lit lanterns and flowers of many colours added a rich elegance. A white wicker table and matching chair placed with a pot of tall lavender added much to the already divine setting.
As the ceremony began, we stood inside the picnic shelter while an otherworldly mist hung over the water under a sky of swirling blue and grey tones. A small group gathered to witness this most special moment. Only 10 close family members were inside the picnic shelter and others had paddled over in either a kayak or a canoe, each minding the COVID rules of distancing! As the presiding minister, I purposely spoke loud enough so to be heard both on and off shore.
With the aid of a cell phone and several Bluetooth speakers, lovely music could be heard during both the ceremony and the time of celebration that followed! A local restaurant prepared a lovely meal, which was delivered in individual boxes for each guest, right down to the fresh berry-laden cheesecake.
Each photo is enhanced by the moody sky, misty air and the ever-changing bay waters. We did not have heavy rain nor were there strong winds; the Good Lord himself cupped his hands over and around the picnic shelter. We were greatly blessed.
As the day began to draw to a close and the picnic shelter filled with laughter and dancing, I marveled at this young couple and knew they have all it takes to travel the many twists and turns life will present. For, as it is written, “Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass, its learning to dance in the rain.”
This story is being shared in honour of Pride Month and also in honour of Father’s Day, it is shared with permission.
He was one of 14 youth who had gathered that morning. All were struggling with life in one way or another, and I had been asked to come and speak about spirituality.
We moved the chairs into the middle of the room, with the sectional couch making up the lion’s share of our attempted circle. Some lounged on the sectional, while others sat rigid on the chairs, and two nervously paced the room.
For the ice breaker, I had prepared a game of “Would You Rather?” Asking questions such as “Would you rather be able to fly or be invisible?” and everyone would share their answers. As we moved along in the game, I deliberately made the questions more thought provoking; “Would you rather go without your cell phone or laptop?”, “Would you rather meet God alone in an elevator or in a crowd on the street?”
This last question brought much discussion and several of those lounging sat up. One of those sitting on a chair jumped to his feet and boisterously answered, “Oh I would want God alone, he has a lot to answer for!” Many echoed similar sentiments.
I ventured to say, “You can have God alone, any time you want. Does anyone know what I am talking about?” They blankly looked back at me. “I am talking about prayer.”
After all the laughter and joking ended, I said “I am serious. How many of you have ever uttered a prayer to God?”
“I have told God to F-Off lots of time!” One youth offered, others either laughing or nodding in agreement.
After much discussion, I offered to end our time in a collective prayer with everyone helping. I started,
“Dear Creator, we know you are here with us but sometimes you seem so silent, so absent that it is hard for us to believe you even exist. Today we come to you in prayer, each of us bringing our own stuff. Please listen now as we share our stuff with you….”.
I then tossed a tennis ball to the youth beside me. After she added a short line she then passed the ball along; this happened until all who wanted to add to our prayer had done so.
I ended the prayer saying, “Thank-you God, Father and Mother of us all. May we feel your peaceful and loving arms around us as we go from here today. Amen.”
They silently got up and left the room, except one youth who had curled up in the corner of the sectional. He sobbed so loudly it seemed to embarrass him. He tried to stifle his anguish.
I moved my chair a bit closer and quietly asked “Do you want to talk?”
“I have never prayed before and it hit me in my gut. It hit me hard.” He sniffed then added “You called God my Father, but I hate my Father. He beat me every chance he got. He said he was beating “the gay” out of me. But he never did succeed; I’m still gay.”
My heart hit my throat and I almost teared up.
He continued, “If God is like my dad then I want nothing to do with him.”
I nodded, what he said made sense. Who wants an abusive and cruel God?
Quietly I said, “You are wonderfully made by a great God. You are one of God’s masterpieces and God loves you.”
He froze at the thought, trying to absorb the meaning of my words.
Continuing I suggested, “Perhaps God could be your new Father. The one who loves you deeply, never leaves you and is always listening.”
“Yeah, maybe.” He said
Then after a silent pause he added, “I like that idea. God as my Father, that does help me feel better.”
He asked for a Bible, so I gave him one marking the sections he should read first, and before we parted, we again shared in a prayer.
A couple of months later I bumped into him. He looked entirely different! His big smile told me he was well. He informed me he had his own apartment, was going to the local college and had a part time job.
“My new Father and I talk daily, I have been reading his books and you have no idea how much of a difference it has made.”
Actually, just by looking at him, I had a pretty good idea what a difference it was making.
Every year, when Father’s Day rolls around, I think of this young man and say a prayer in his honour, hoping him and his new Father are still in daily conversation!
Once I read that the best way to keep your lawn weed free was by keeping it thick with grass; by seeding regularly it keeps the lawn too thick for weeds to land, root and take over.
So, I seeded my lawn yesterday. There was no fertilizer or hours spent replenishing the soil before seeding. I simply walked the length and width of my yard with a hand held seeder releasing the seeds as evenly as I could. Once the seeds were down I then stomped around my yard pressing the seeds into the soil so they would stay put. As I did so several neighbors drove by, honked their horns and waved, presumably mumbling, “What is she up to now?”
Thing is, I actually like weeds! To me there is nothing more beautiful than a lawn taken over by dandelions and I have a rule, if it is green it can grow on my lawn. However, my neighbors feel differently.
One summer a neighbor, who has an obvious green thumb, was discovered standing in the middle of my front lawn remorsefully looking around. I watched from my front window knowing it could not be good news. Sure enough a plant by the name “Creeping Charlie” had taken root in my lawn and was now creeping over to his lawn. I was handed a tub and instructed upon its use so to end Charlie’s travels.
I handed it back courageously and said, “Charlie is welcome here!” Apparently my neighbor isn’t as inclusive! (I have a hard rule against chemical warfare)
To be fair this neighbor’s yard and flower beds are so impressive his house has been on the “Tour of Gardens” and he spends many a summer evening giving ‘wanna be’ gardeners lessons. My yard is “the vain of his existence” but, I would like to offer a re-framing. Anyone can grow beautiful flowers in perfect conditions. My yard is like the ultimate challenge; it proves what a pro he really is. He should be thanking me!
He is a good and kind neighbor and as Jesus so clearly instructed, the most important commandment is to love the Lord you God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.” (Matthew 13:29-31)
So for my neighbor’s sake I seeded my lawn yesterday. As I marched up and down my front lawn I did so with a bit more gusto then required with hopes all would notice my efforts at keeping Charlie and the dandelions out!
Recently, I had the privilege of visiting a lovely church. Its sanctuary is full of stain glass windows and this ministry has a rich history of being a beacon of God’s love for over 140 years. As I stood, masked, at one side of the sanctuary, a church member stood at the other side sharing beautiful stories of this beloved faith community. When it came time to leave, he looked longingly around and honestly admitted “It has been too long since I have been here. I don’t want to leave.”
I deeply understood his sentiment. Each Sunday, like so many others, I join worship virtually via the live stream from my church. Thankfully we can “chrome cast” the service to our TV screen, and together my husband and I join with others to sing, pray, and reflect. There are some advantages to gathering for virtual worship. For example, at my church the chat bar is open allowing those who join worship to share a “hello” and a bit of fellowship prior to and following each service. We can also freshen up our coffee during the service without anyone knowing! But it isn’t the same as being in the church’s sanctuary.
This pandemic living has me wondering where sanctuary can be found when one cannot go into the church building. The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines sanctuary as “a place of refuge and protection.” Some have told me their place of sanctuary is a special spot in nature- either the sandy shores of Lake Huron or Georgian Bay, while others enjoy the forest canopy and accompanying birdsong. There are a few I know who find sanctuary in their gardens, watching the antics of the chipmunks while tending to God’s beauty.
Michael A Singer, author of The Untethered Soul and The Surrender Experiment, teaches that there are actually two worlds: one that goes on all around us, and one that goes on within us. He teaches that there is a power within us that pulls us upward. If we focus our inner self towards God, others, and eternity, we can create a refuge; we begin to create our own inner sanctuary.
Where do you find your sanctuary? Where is your refuge? If you haven’t developed one, maybe this pandemic is the perfect opportunity to do so!
Blessings,
Rev. Heather McCarrel
Photo by Lua Valentia used with permission/Unsplash
Whenever life becomes overwhelming, I go outside and stand under my maple tree and lookup. Whether it is day or night, sunshine or rain, I always gain courage by standing under my maple.
I look past the tall trunk and through the upward reaching limbs and gaze at the timeless sky. Knowing that under this sky the human story has unfolded for generations, it has been the canopy of our existence as a species.
That moon I see is the same moon that led the Israelites in their 40-year journey to the promised land. The same sun that shone down on Jesus as he traveled from town to town, shines on us today.
It isn’t enough to just stand under the maple, to gain the full extent of its grounding power one must lean on its trunk or run their hands along one of its limbs. I know it must sound silly, but by holding onto a limb, even for a moment, is like holding the hand of an old, wise and calming presence in the universe.
If you have never stood under an old stately tree and leaned into its soothing presence, then I highly recommend you do so, right now, no matter the time of day or the weather, just go and touch a bit of the grounding wisdom of the universe.
Bear had a heart condition. The surgeons did all they could when he underwent heart surgery but it didn’t go as well as hoped. Eventually, he made it home and for the last 8 years before his death he was aware that his heart wasn’t as strong as it used to be. But that isn’t the heart condition I am referring to.
Bear had the kind of heart condition that made him phone his mother every Thursday evening just because he knew how much she loved to hear his voice.
He had the kind of heart condition that made him a strong but fair foreman at the local factory and the kind of guy you would want on your ball team or better yet, as your coach.
This big, burly, and, tattoo covered man single handily raised a fine son; one who is now raising children of his own. Bear became a single parent when his son was only two months old and gladly quit his motorcycle gang, bought a house and set up a home. That is the kind of heart condition Bear had.
Bear liked to spend his summers over at The Country Camp Ground, a few miles out of town, where he became known as “the Pope of the Camp”! He thoroughly enjoyed sitting in his lawn chair on the deck by his trailer and each passerby received a kind word or he had a joke ready to share. He also had a listening ear and clear common sense advice for all who sought him out. Bear made time for everyone.
As a minister I am privileged to preside at the funerals of many over the course of a year and I will never forget the funeral service for Bear. The funeral home was filled beyond capacity with a spill over crowd in two separate rooms and the service being viewed via TV screens.
There were entire ball teams who arrived in their jerseys. Bikers who arrived in leathers with the logo for “Saddle Tramps” pasted on their backs, and many others arrived who wiped tears from their faces as they viewed photos of Bear’s life.
After the service one young man, about 15 years old, and his mother approached me. This young man, wiping tears from his eyes said, “Bear was like a father to me.” Then he went forward and laid his hands on the urn. His mother turned to me and said, “My son was experiencing terrible bullying at school and I was at a loss of what to do. About 3 years ago we came to the Country Camp for summer holidays and it was there we met Bear. Bear took my son under his wings even keeping in touch with him over the school year. He really did become like a father to my son. I am indebted to Bear for how he helped my son. We are already missing him deeply.”
The Apostle Paul writes that we are to “outdo one another in showing love”(Romans 12:10). Bear would have won that competition hands down!
He leaves behind a legacy of love and an example for us all to follow; the world sure could use a few more with Bear’s heart condition!
Rev. Heather McCarrel
Photo by Tengyart, used with permission/Unsplash
I would like to thank Sandy Lindsay for adding my weekly BLOG to the Saugeen Times, it has been a privilege. On May 5th, 2021 I will discontinue my ministry at Port Elgin United Church and so, my BLOGs will no longer be appearing in the Saugeen Times. These weekly writings will be appearing at https://stainglasslens.wordpress.com/
The very first country church I served was an hour and 20-minute drive from my home which, on Easter Sunday meant I left home at 5:30 a.m. so to be on time for the 7:00 a.m. Sunrise Service. The drive was one of my favorites all year with the morning mist rising out of the quiet fields and the soft choral music of CBC Radio playing in the background.
We would gather in the church basement with the coffee percolating, tea brewing and a long table laden with Easter treats awaiting our return. As the piper warmed up his bagpipes we would tighten the scarves around our necks, pull up our hoods and quietly follow “Amazing Grace” across the road, through the cemetery and up the hill to where the statue of a soldier had been erected.
The cool air would warm enough to rise from our singing lips and the view of rolling country hills dotted by trees was the perfect view for this most sacred sun rise.
Years earlier, just after WWII, the congregation had started this Easter tradition. It was started with the belief that Jesus’ resurrection meant all who had died would also rise some day, especially those young men lost to war. So, each Easter began with a sunrise service in the cemetery; a traditional celebration of the promise of resurrection bridging many generations.
We would bring ourselves into worship with a prayer followed by fiddle and banjo accompanied hymns. One of the youth would read the resurrection scriptures, the minister would offer a short reflection and finally one last “Jesus Christ is Risen Today” chorus before following the piper back down to the church basement for warmed hot cross buns, homemade jam on a freshly baked tea bisque and a cup of strong coffee.
This year, as we celebrate our second COVID Easter, may we all be warmed by fond memories while rejoicing that the resurrection cannot be stopped even by a pandemic!
May the power of Christ’s resurrection and the promise and hope of Easter go with us into the days ahead. May we sing, pray, live, love, act and serve all for the glory of God.
May everyone have a joyous Easter,
Rev. Heather McCarrel
Photo by Hugo Fergusson used with permission/ Unsplash
There is a little creek that runs along my neighborhood. If you are not careful you may drive right by and never notice the life which surrounds this little bending trail of water. Usually in February it disappears under the layers and layers of snow and I have seen it dry up almost completely in mid-summer but, at times I have witnessed wondrous things by this creek.
Often in early summer there are huge turtles that come up from this creek and dig nests for their eggs along the roadside. One spring evening I slowed my van to a crawl so to take in the beauty of a mother deer and its fawn as they gracefully bent their heads to drink from this creek. And then there are the wildflowers that grow along its banks; colouring the tall grasses with yellow, white and vibrant blue.
This week, due to a mild spell, not only did the creek break free from all the snow but it bubbled joyfully over the rocks, tree roots and even broke free from the banks that held it. What a wonderful sight and sound!
As I stood admiring it’s tenacity to continue to strive despite all kinds of weather it made me think of the Lenten journey we are now completing. This journey is a time of inner reflection; a time of “spring cleaning” our souls by asking such questions as “What has been tripping me up from fully experiencing God’s presence in my life?”
Lent is a season of tough questions, a journey of self-examination that if done honestly will improve our relationship with God and with ourselves; a deliberate movement into the deeper presence of God.
As I stood admiring the creek the words of Jesus echoed, “Unbind him and set him free.” Of course, Jesus was speaking of Lazarus, who had been dead but thanks to Jesus was now alive. Words I believe are being spoken to us today.
What binds me to the world in such a way it prevents me from fully experiencing God’s grace? What prevents me from being fully alive?
As Rev. Dr. Karoline M. Lewis‘, author, educator and preacher, writes, “What does grace upon grace sound like? It sounds like when you are deader than dead and you hear your name being called, by the shepherd who knows you and loves you, and you are then able to walk out of that tomb unbound to rest in the bosom of Jesus.”
During this coming Holy Week may we all quiet the world long enough so we too hear our names being called.
Blessings on your Holy Week,
Rev. Heather McCarrel
The Photo with this Blog was taken by Maddox Howe used with permission/Unsplash
Our 20 year old cat has gone blind. She has thinned down to a shell of what she used to be and her once beautiful blond mid-length fur is now somewhat tattered and knotted despite our best efforts. She has eyes that we suspect sees only shapes and shades. She maneuvers around our house out of memory and familiarity. When we approach her, she leans in to smell who it is before commencing with her signature purrrr.
Early one morning she wandered the upstairs hallway meowing loudly enough to wake us all. I left my bed to sooth her. As I reached down to pick her up; without hesitation she began to purr and snuggled into my housecoat.
I sat in a hallway chair petting her tiny head and cradling her fragile body and I marveled at her trust; she could not see me but responded to my presence with a kind of certainty that humbled me. It made me wonder when I have leaned unwaveringly into the presence of God as trustingly as my blind cat leaned into my touch. When did I cry out in the midst of my darkness with confidence that God would reach down and lift me up?
Her trust highlighted my doubt. Does God really care about the battles we face, the insecurities we try to hide and the fears that keep us up at night? Does a God of the universe even know we exist? Are our problems even worth God’s attention when the world is so full of tragedy and pain?
As I sat there in the darkened hallway the answer came to me; ancient words repeated through time spoken by a God whose love is timeless, “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.” (Joshua 1:9).
God is always with us, waiting to offer comfort and hope. How often do we miss experiencing God’s presence because we are so preoccupied with our own thoughts? May you take time during this Lenten Season to pause from all the hustle and bustle long enough to be assured of God’s loving companionship.
Stain Glass Lens of the 21st Century 